


Green is a good colour on you

by Floivin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floivin/pseuds/Floivin
Summary: "Marriage?! To this twat?""Language, Ella!" Beatrice snapped. "I apologise, Lucius. She must have picked that up from her time with her godmother. I assure you-""I don't want to marry him!" Leila exclaimed, hoping someone would take her seriously, or that this was some twisted joke. Not that her family was really the 'joking' kind. Draco scoffed loudly. "Like I would want to marry you either, prune.""Pansy.""Wench.""Wanker.""Oh my! Such colourful words for a nine-year-old," Narcissa laughed airily, fanning her face with one hand. "Dear, it's not like it's going to be tomorrow. You'll marry once you both come of age. It's the norm for two pure-blood families to make ties at a young age."Leila flailed her arms in frustration. "But I don't even like him-""Enough." Everyone froze and turned to Cecil.





	1. Chapter 1: The one where Leila becomes Ella

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is a small series I'm working on with my own character, Leila. I'm not sure how long it'll be between updates as I do have my studies, but I'm working up to the first book. All characters of the Harry Potter world belong to our saviour, J.K. Rowling, but the rest are MINE. Any familiarities between my own characters and historical figures are purely coincidental. I will make another section for short snippets that are not part of the plot at a later stage, but for now, I will try my best to keep to the storyline. Any comments/thoughts/improvements people have would be more than welcome! At the moment I have no Beta, but if you'd like to be one, just drop me a message

The first time she rode through the large iron gates, she wished she was anywhere else. The front gate was guarded by two statues, a man on the left and a woman on the right, both carved into the wall itself. The carriage, drawn by two horses, trundled along a dirt road up to the grandiose castle, flanked by open grass fields on all sides. and stopped right by the doors. Someone opened the door for her and she was rushed out into the crisp morning air. It couldn’t be later than 5 am, and the sun had not yet fully risen above the forest behind the castle.  
“Keep up!” Beatrice snapped, walking towards the tall, imposing front doors, barely glancing at the man opening them for her. The castle loomed over her as she scurried to keep up, craning her head to see the top spires. As Leila passed through the front door, brass lion head knockers gleamed, and she did a double take. They were not lion’s heads, but wolves, and in each mouth was a deer leg. Leila eyeballed them nervously as she passed them, quickening her pace to catch up to Beatrice.  
Servants lined the entrance hall, standing just as straight and silent as the marble white pillars they stood between, causing an unnatural tunnel that Leila was forced to walk through after the stiff woman. At the end of the line was a large room, separated by a large interior archway that Leila had to crane her head to see the underside of as she walked through. Once inside the large room, she was buffeted by sudden heat from a fireplace that reached halfway up the wall and was twice as wide. The rectangular walls reached the second floor where a balcony lined the upper walls, and one or two servants could be seen running along the upper corridors. The room smelled stuffy and musty, reminding Leila of a really old woman.  
Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to a high back chair in front of the fireplace. Sitting in it was a really old woman- oh.

“Come here.” the bony finger that poked out of her long sleeves beckoned. It wasn’t a suggestion. Leila slowly stepped forward, her steps muffled on the dusty carpet with funny looking patterns. She stopped right in front of the old lady, and immediately a hand shot out and grabbed her chin in a vice grip. This old hag had more strength than she let on. The hand forced her head this way and that as she examined Leila’s face. Suddenly she felt subconscious. Was there still a pudding smudge on her cheek? She could have sworn she had scrubbed it off in the carriage ride.  
“Scrawny,” the old lady muttered aloud, “and far too pale; she looks sick… have to fill her out… extra food portions. You probably can’t even fight, can you, girl?” When Leila realised the last sentence was directed towards her, she shook her head slightly as the hand retracted into the folds of the dress. Leila wondered if it had originally been a curtain drape before the old lady started wearing it.  
“Speak up girl, I expect an answer when I ask a question.”  
“No.”  
“No, what?”  
“No… ma’am?”  
“Can you tell which end of a sabre is the pointy end?”  
Leila blinked. “What’s a sabre?”  
“Hmpf. Well, that answers that.” The woman huffed smugly before collapsing back onto her chair, sending a small cloud of dust up. She pointed to something behind Leila before picking up a goblet from the table next to her and taking a long drought. Leila turned around to two chairs, one of which had already been occupied by Beatrice. The woman’s narrow eyes looked down at her disdainfully from her long nose, her thin fingers curled up in her lap as if she were stopping herself from reaching out to strangle Leila. Leila quickly took up the empty seat, waiting for the old woman to speak. She had an air of authority over her that made it seem like no one ought to be talking when she spoke. At last, she put down the silver goblet and her beady, shrivelled gaze turned once more back to 7-year-old girl.  
“Now then. We shall have to add fencing lessons into your schedule. I think we can squeeze that in before her History of Magic classes.” The ancient woman turned her gaze to Beatrice. “It will have to be after her Etiquette lessons. Don’t want her shaking from exhaustion while trying to hold my fine China.”  
“Mother, how are you going to fit her piano lessons in?” Beatrice asked, shifting slightly in her seat. Mother? That’s not possible, Leila thought. That ancient bat is Beatrice’s mother? Beatrice can’t be older than 30? Leila swore she had heard Beatrice say her age before. 32? But then again, Mina had only been around twenty-something. How old had this woman been to have had Beatrice and Mina just over 20 years ago? Speaking of which…  
“Her room has already been made in the East Wing. She’ll have to-”  
“Where’s Mina?” Leila blurted, face reddening as both women turned to her, eyes narrowed.  
“Learn to speak when spoken to, girl. I will not tolerate anything less. Especially when your elders are speaking!” The old hag snapped, making Leila shrink further into her chair, her feet dangling off the edge.  
“Sorry, it’s just… where is she? I didn’t get to say goodbye before we left, and… no one told me…” she trailed off at the glare from Beatrice.  
“No one told the girl yet?” The old lady sniffed disdainfully, glancing at her daughter. “No,” Beatrice shrugged. “I suppose no one could be bothered.”  
“Hmpf. Best not delay it any longer.” she shifted in her seat to look at Leila, clearing her throat.  
“Your godmother is dead.”

 

Dead? No, that couldn’t be. Leila had seen her just last week before the carriage had come to pick her up and bring her here.  
“Well, she is. Dragon pox took her, nasty business. She sent for us to pick you up before she died so we could take care of you… seeing as you have no one else...” Beatrice said, and Leila realised she had voiced her thoughts out loud. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and a cold feeling washed over her, her eyes blurring.

She was out of her seat before she knew it, running down a long corridor and away from the harsh calls behind her. Her feet took her through the castle until she ran through a random door and pulled it closed behind her, falling to the floor and curling her knees up to her chest. Mina had been fine. They had been gardening that week.  
“She’s fine. She’s fine, she’s fine…” Leila’s tears soaked through her dress as she buried her face in her knees, hugging them. Mina had always been there for her since she could remember. She could never have asked for a better godmother. Would she really have to stay with these people? Beatrice had only ever visited Mina at her cottage once before that Leila could remember, and she had not enjoyed it.  
***** “Mother insists. It was written in father’s Will that every family member be there for his funeral. I’m sure he wanted us all to be together at least for that,” the tall woman examined her pointy, manicured nails as if they were more important than Mina.  
“Father only wrote that so that even in his death, his family could keep up appearances for the public. He didn’t care about family reunions,” Mina scoffed, the back of her hair waving slightly and Leila figured she was shaking her head. Leila shifted as quietly as possible to see further into the room through the slightly open door without showing herself so she could get a better look at the other woman’s face.  
The woman in question was narrowing her eyes at Mina, her brown hair was piled neatly on top of her head in a bun, a stark contrast to Mina’s wild, unkempt brown locks, that Mina always joked about and called a bird’s nest. The other woman wore a rather shapeless black dress, and the pointiest shoes Leila had ever seen.  
“Well, you certainly had that figured out quite quickly. Very well, I’ll not lie to you. It would not do for family members to be missing at Father’s funeral. Mother forbids it. People will talk.”  
“Let them!” Mina spat, and Leila had never heard Mina sound so venomous before. “I stopped caring the day I ran away when mother and father disowned me for refusing to marry that pompous arse. I’m not part of the family anymore, remember? And quite frankly, I’m all the happier for it, Beatrice.”  
Beatrice sighed, her nostrils flaring slightly. “Is there no way that I can convince you otherwise? Surely I may stay a while and try to talk some sense into that thick skull of yours.”  
“No, I won’t change my mind. But one night, since you rode all the way here, and then you’ll leave in the morning.” The leg Leila had been crouching on began to lose feeling, so she made to stand up, and the floorboards underneath her foot gave a loud creak. She inhaled sharply and looked up, only to lock eyes with the tall woman.  
“Girl, come here.” Leila froze in fear, barely daring to breathe until she heard Mina’s reassuring voice. “It’s alright dear, come out.” Leila slowly stood up, dusted off the front of her pants and pushed the door open, walking into the two pairs of eyes now looking at her. She went and stood by Mina’s side, one hand on the back of the chair.  
“So, this is her,” Beatrice said at last, looking her up and down. “This is the spawn of that monstrous unity.”  
“Beatrice!”  
“Oh, come now, I’m sure you’ve told her all about her disappointing parents. That father of hers should be wiped from history.” Leila felt her face flush with heat and she lowered her eyes to the ground.  
“Yes, she knows what happened to her parents, thank you, sister,” Mina said acidly. “Though I didn’t explain it quite like that.”

The next day, they stood at the door and watched Beatrice’s carriage ride away. Mina let out a relieved sigh and turned to regard the small 5-year-old girl beside her, taking her hand and leading her around the back of the cottage.  
“Don’t let her words get to you, Lei. Now, why don’t we see how our Gerberas are growing, and I think we can cut some Lavender to take with for the neighbours when we have dinner with them tonight.”

*****

Leila stayed there until she lost track of time, her tears had dried up and her body had stopped shaking. Slowly uncurling her stiff body, her tummy gave a loud rumble, and she finally looked around the room. It was dark, save for the light of the last few weak rays of sunlight peeking through the bay window. The room was filled with bookcases that reached the ceiling. Each shelf of books was organised into colours or volumes. Mina had a bookcase in the cottage full of books she used to read to Leila, but nothing of this size. The sheer vastness of the number of books was so overwhelming, Leila wished she could stay in the room all day. But with the fading light and the rumbling of her tummy, she gave the room one more reluctant look before leaving. Hurrying down a candlelit passage, she realised she had no idea where she was in the large manor. It had far too many bloody corridors.  
As she turned a corner, she rammed into something large and solid. A hand snapped out and grabbed her arm with a vice grip. Leila struggled, pulling at the strong fingers on her upper arm.  
“What are you doing here?” A deep, cold voice that was definitely male, sounded above her head. She stopped struggling and looked up, caught by a pair of piercing golden eyes that stared down at her above a neatly trimmed beard and square set jaw that was pulled into an irritated snarl. Leila had never seen a man so large. There was not a trace of fat on him, but his shoulders were so broad, Leila felt intimidated by the man looming over her.  
Without waiting for an answer, he began to pull her down the corridor, and she gave up struggling, resigned to try to keep up with his long strides. They made their way downstairs and back into the large living room, now lit by the fireplace and a large chandelier covered in candles hanging in the centre of the room on the second floor. It cast long shadows on the old woman as she turned her head from speaking with Beatrice by the fire.  
“Girl, where have you been?” She snapped.  
“Snooping around upstairs,” the large man answered calmly. “Crying by the looks of her puffy face.”  
The woman sniffed disdainfully. “Yes, well. Enough of that now. You’ve had your cry. Thank you, Cecil,” she turned her gaze to the man, but there was no gratitude in the gaze. “Now girl, you need to listen carefully. You are to live here. We will not tolerate that sort of behaviour that Mina allowed. Merlin knows you were probably set free to run wild like a rabid dog in that shack of hers.” Leila felt her face grow hot at the way the old bat spoke about Mina. Had she not been her daughter? Did she not care about her- best not think about that, Leila thought. She knew one thought and she’d start crying all over again. She didn’t want to give this woman another reason to reprimand her.  
“You will be taken to your room soon enough to wash up for dinner. A servant will show you around in the morning, so getting lost will not be an excuse. Are you hearing me, girl?” she demanded.  
“My name’s not Girl,” Leila blurted without thought. There was silence before the old woman smiled wickedly. “Oh? And what is it, then? Do enlighten us.”  
“It’s L-Leila.” she stammered, and Beatrice snorted. “Oh bless it. She thinks she’s keeping that abhorrent name.” Before Leila could blink, the old woman was speaking.  
“Do you know who I am?” Leila shook her head and kept silent. “I am Vinda Rosier. That man there is my son in law,” she indicated the Cecil, who was now leaning against the fireplace, “And you already know Beatrice, my second daughter.”  
“Second?” Vinda Rosier chose to let Leila’s outburst slide this time. “Yes. Druella was my eldest, who married your great uncle, Cygnus - not that you’ve ever heard of him, probably. They’re both long dead by now. I outlived two of my daughter and even my own husband. Not bad for an old woman, eh?” her eyes glinted mischievously, before her tone became sharp, boding no room for an argument. “Now listen here, girl. That is not - nor was it ever meant to be - your name. That delinquent father of yours broke apart from family traditions. He was never meant to run away, nor marry that woman, nor was he ever meant to have you. You will never use that name in this household. You are no longer of their bloodline. From now on, you are a distant relative of ours, and you are Beatrice and Cecil’s adoptive daughter. Their son, Lenox, will fetch you from your room later for dinner.”  
Leila wanted to refuse, to fight and scream and stamp her feet until they listened. But with three pairs of cold eyes on her, she nodded. Seeming satisfied, the three adults relaxed slightly.  
“But.. if I may, wh-what do I let people call me?”  
“Elladora. Elladora, Bella Rosier. This was the name that was planned for you when you were born. And if you even think about arguing with me, I warn you, I will not tolerate it. Any disobedience will be dealt with. You will toe the line.” Vinda warned, noting Leila had opened her mouth to try speaking.  
Leila was taken aback. That sounded nothing like her name. She figured they’d make her use her nickname or something, not… this. Under the uncompromising glares, Leila had never felt more alone.


	2. Chapter 2: The one where Leila loses control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about you, Ella? Learnt to use magic yet?” Leila looked down at her plate of chicken. She had only taken a few bites and just moved the mashed potatoes around her plate, making it look rather messy. She shook her head a small fraction, but it was enough for Lenox to burst into laughter. “You still haven’t done anything? Merlin, you must be slow.”  
> “Shut up, Lenox,” Leila mumbled, feeling her cheeks go red. Was he right? No, they had told her both her parents had been magic. What if…  
> “What if you’re really bad at magic, and you’ll never be like your family?” Lenox was giving her the biggest shit-eating grin like he could not think of any other joy. Seeing his grin, and the adult’s smiles around the table made something ugly curl in the pit of her stomach. “Shut up, L-”  
> “What if,” he leaned eagerly forward across the table to her, “You’re a Squib!”  
> “SHUT UP!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I've just submitted my year-end project, I have a showreel due by the end of next week and I'm running of lack of sleep because I have a date with Insomnia, but I'm fine. Fine, I'm fine. It's fine. Everything, is, fine. Thanks to my beta Caninegalactic for proof-reading and enjoy

The water was ice cold, nipping at the nerves that lay tightly beneath her skin as it ran down her face and neck, the little droplets collecting on her chin and falling back into the basin. She looked up at herself in the mirror, watching them run down her small, oval face. Her black, wavy hair fell in messy locks just past her shoulders much like the mane of a lion, which she just knew Vinda would not approve of. She scrunched up her nose as a bitter, fickle taste stung the back of her tongue. The thought of that woman simply made her skin crawl. She shook her head and grimaced trying to get these sickly thoughts out of her head. She’d be damned if she let this wretched woman get to her. She looked back up into the mirror staring at her reflection once again and thought to herself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt staying on her good side though. She quickly brushed her hair and turned to the rest of her room. There was a large four poster bed with pristine white sheets against the one wall in the centre, with polished wooden bedside tables on either side and a writing desk against the opposite wall. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed with most of her belongings in. Cecil had told her on their way up that she was to never wear pants unless she was going for fencing lessons. The wardrobe in the one corner held all her new dresses, most of them black, white or deep blue. She missed her green shirts, they were her favorite colour. It reminded her of her godmother’s garden. Closing her eyes, the sweet sentiment engulfed her senses, the smell of fresh soil tickling her senses. If she thought hard enough she could still feel the sensation of the dirt on her fingertips. It felt comforting and warm. As she slowly returned to reality, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when she remembered where she was. Quickly diverting her attention back to her bed Leila scrunched her nose at a simple black dress that had been laid out on the bed for her to wear. They might force her to wear what they want and say what they want, but she knew, as she put on her dress, that she would not let herself be called Ella- or whatever it was. At least… if they weren’t around.  
“They’re not taking my name. It’s mine.” She muttered firmly  
Just as she had finished lacing up her knee-high shoes that had been a pain to figure out, a sharp knock came at the door that startled her.  
“It’s open,” she yelled. The door moved open on silent hinges, revealing a boy no older than her standing there. He wore dark pants tucked into shiny boots and a jacket of the same colour as her dress.  
“Oh, hello,” she said brightly. “You must be Lenox. I’m-”  
“Ella. I know,” The boy gave her appearance a once over, scrunching his nose up. “Well, come on then.” And with that, he turned around. Leila rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself. Great, so he was as cold as his family. So no friend then, she thought despondently as she followed him in silence to a well-lit room with so many portraits along the walls. On one side, a fireplace sat roaring, while the windows on the opposite wall were covered by rather heavy looking soft yellow curtains that fell to the floor. A long dining table sat in the middle of the room, with the three adults already waiting. As she followed Lenox to the one side of the table, she could see every portrait stop what they were doing and watch her. Even one man who had been sleeping when she had entered, was now sitting upright and pushing his glasses up his nose from where they had slipped, making her feel very out of place. Leila resisted the urge to shiver when her skin crawled at their penetrating gazes. The two empty chairs pulled themselves out and pushed themselves in again when Leila and Lenox had sat down and the swan napkin that had been sitting on her plate unfolded itself and floated to her lap. Dinner was a morbid affair. Beatrice began explaining the schedule Leila was to follow each day, and the lessons she was to have every week.  
“...and every afternoon you will be given private tutoring lessons on magic, so we can see just how gifted you are. If you are at all, that is. You will have Saturdays and Sundays off, but you are expected at Dinner.” Barely listening, Leila nodded as she watched a house elf shuffle around the table, only his ears visible as they bobbed up and down while he moved to take away empty plates and replace them with more food. Sitting there, looking at all the grim faces around the table made her feel hollow inside as if their judgement had manifested into itching claws digging into her core leaving nothing in their path. Not a week ago she had been covered in dirt in the garden behind Mina’s cottage, pulling stubborn weeds out from their vegetable patch.  
Now house elves rushed around them with silver plates laden with meats, pastries and heaps of steamed vegetables they had probably bought from the local market.  
She had only seen house elves when Beatrice had visited, carrying her large trunk into the cottage. A trunk, Beatrice assured was purely for one night, but Leila had imagined that she and the two house elves carrying could have fit in it quite snugly. Now the same elves were taking her half-eaten food away and replacing it with a cup of some dessert Leila had never seen before. The food had been a bit too much for her petite stomach to handle, as Vinda had made sure to have extra helpings piled onto her plate, but now she sat eyeing the pudding, wondering if she had room for the little delight. Resigning herself to a bite, she scooped some with a long, delicate spoon. Crunchy meringue flakes topped with whipped cream and strawberry sauce filled her mouth, and she had to bite down on a moan. Just briefly she felt herself get swept away into another world far beyond her comprehension. It was a sensational feeling as if she was floating among rose scented clouds, pure delight holding her tightly.  
“Good, isn’t it?” Beatrice asked with a smug little smirk. “Eton mess. The servants are quite adept at making this one, and it’s one of my favourites. Do you like sweet things, Ella?” Leila nodded, too busy enjoying her dessert to care about the name. Beatrice exchanged a knowing glance with Vinda. “Well, why don’t we send some up to your room later, and you can have it before bed. Just make sure to brush your teeth, understood?”  
“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Leila knew they were trying to manipulate her, but at that point, she didn’t care. She’d let them have their way, for now.  
That night she dreamt of her and Mina, riding a dragon across the country to burn the Rosier Manor to the ground.

Leila was taken on a thorough tour of the manor the next day by a servant girl in a plain grey dress and apron. The manor was much larger than she anticipated, but she enjoyed memorising each twist and turn. The best part by far was the stables. One large room with several stalls on either side and a large barn door at each end that lead to long stretches of grass where some horses were roaming. Always having the desire to ride horses, but never having the space to own one at Mina’s cottage, Leila begged Vinda and Beatrice privately at the end of the day during dinner to let her ride. Her neighbours had owned two horses, and Mina had taken Leila over quite often to have dinner with the elderly couple and pet the horses.  
It took an entire week of settling into her lessons and begging before Beatrice dropped her fork onto her plate one night in exasperation, looking over at her mother. “Oh, for pity’s sake mother, Lenox rides. Just let her. It might stop her nagging and this insistent headache might just let up.”  
Vinda put her fork down more delicately than her daughter, dabbing her mouth of chicken soup before fixing Leila with a stern glare. “Lenox rides because he is Cecil’s only son. Were he to catch you, be it on your head, Ella. But,” she paused, thinking for a few silent minutes, “If you promise to do very well in your studies, I can… persuade the stable hands to not mention it to Cecil. He works every day till late night, you will have to get up early in the morning to ride, and then bathe before your next lessons so that you do not stink up the place with the smell of horses by the time he gets home. Do you accept my terms?”  
Leila nodded eagerly, knowing it would be worth it to ride if she worked hard.  
And it was.  
Three days later after many lessons on the History of Magic, piano, etiquette and speech, Vinda gave a stable hand the nod of approval. The stable hand boy was very patient, giving her tips and instructions while having the horse walk in a circle on a lead rein to improve her posture.  
One week later she could lead the horse by herself.  
Two weeks and she was trotting in the lunging ring.  
One month went by, finding Leila and the stable hand, Hogan, cantering across the fields. Leila had grown accustomed to riding Rocky, a sweet-tempered saddler cross at roughly 16 hands. For two hours a day, Leila could actually feel happy. The wind snapped at her hair and kissed her face sending adrenaline coursing through her blood. Her teachers rapped her on the knuckles for one wrong word and berated her, putting her down, she had homework each night, none of the Rosiers wished to discuss anything other than business at Dinner, let alone anything with her, and during the day they avoided her like the plague. For two hours a day, she didn’t feel so alone. 

“Concentrate, Ella!” her professor snapped, whacking the table next to her with his cane. Leila narrowed her eyes at the small stone in front of her, putting all her energy into making it move. The stone sat on the table, mocking her. She let out a huff of breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, feeling her energy trickle from her veins like running water, leaving her feeling empty. Professor Harvey gave a tsk of disappointment before barking “Again!”  
By the time she had washed up and gone down to dinner, she was shaking from exhaustion. How could he expect her to suddenly move things with her mind? She was seven for Merlin’s sake. She hadn’t even gotten her wand yet. Over dinner, Lenox was boasting to a gleeful Beatrice and Vinda how he was making things disappear with enough concentration.  
“Professor Harvey says I should be able to move on soon to changing the colour of his teacup,” he said proudly, puffing up his chest.  
“That’s wonderful, dear.” Beatrice cooed and Lenox turned to Leila with an irritating smirk that Leila just wanted to wipe off.  
“What about you, Ella? Learnt to use magic yet?” Leila looked down at her plate of chicken. She had only taken a few bites and just moved the mashed potatoes around her plate, making it look rather messy. She shook her head a small fraction, but it was enough for Lenox to burst into laughter. “You still haven’t done anything? Merlin, you must be slow.”  
“Shut up, Lenox,” Leila mumbled, feeling her cheeks go red. Was he right? No, they had told her both her parents had been magic. What if…  
“What if you’re really bad at magic, and you’ll never be like your family?” Lenox was giving her the biggest shit-eating grin like he could not think of any other joy. Seeing his grin, and the adult’s smiles around the table made something ugly curl in the pit of her stomach. “Shut up, L-”  
“What if,” he leaned eagerly forward across the table to her, “You’re a Squib!”  
“SHUT UP!” She stood up so quickly that her chair fell backwards. She felt a sudden surge running up and down her bones as if a power far beyond her control had seeped into her flesh and made her muscles ignite into a sudden burst of sparks that made the very hair on her arms and neck stand up straight like a vexed cat. Her voice bellowed through the large room startling everyone in their seats. A gust of wind came out of nowhere and blasted Lenox off his seat and crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. A profound silence fell inside the room as blood pounded in her ears, blocking out all other sounds. Lenox lay on the ground against the opposite wall, groaning, and all Leila could think was that his chair had been shattered. She was vaguely aware of Beatrice screaming something behind her, and suddenly sounds came rushing back to her ears.  
“...monster! How dare you!” A large, burly hand gripped her wrist so tightly it hurt, and when she looked up her heart dropped through her stomach into the floor at Cecil’s fuming glare. When had he gotten here?  
“You insolent brat!” With that, he hauled her out of the dining room. Leila looked back over her shoulder just in time to see Beatrice hurrying over to Lenox and kneel down, cradling his head on her lap before the dining room slammed closed and she was dragged to the door of the basement. It flung open on its own accord as Cecil reached it and he plunged them both in darkness as they descended the steep flight of stairs. Leila waved her free arm blindly in front of her out of fear of walking straight into something. Her feet slipped occasionally on the wooden stairs, but she couldn’t slow down with Cecil dragging her to keep up with him.  
Leila wanted to say something, to apologise, but her tongue left like sandpaper in her mouth, and quite frankly, she couldn’t think of anything to say. So she continued to be dragged down the stairs.  
When her feet landed on the more solid ground at the bottom, Cecil pulled his arm back and whipped it forward, releasing Leila’s arm and sending her tumbling painfully to the ground.  
“You come into my household, and dare- DARE to raise a finger against my family? I will not tolerate it! You are nothing here, girl, do you hear me? Vinda requested you be brought here in the hopes that you might show some promise, unlike your parents.” Leila winced as if his words had hit her across the face, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t see his face, but his tone told Leila to keep her mouth shut.  
“You’re a disappointment! If your parents had just toed the line, neither of them would be disappointments to their families either.” Leila was sobbing openly now as she lay on her side, but Cecil kept on. “You’re nothing but a mistake! The result of some dalliance your father had. If you want to keep a roof over your head and not end up homeless, you will toe the line. If I ever catch you doing something like that again, you will be severely punished! Stay here till someone comes to fetch you, and think about whether or not you actually want a roof over your head or not!” The sound of his shoes creaking on the stairs indicated he was going back up, leaving Leila alone in the dark. She hiccuped, snot and tears running freely down her face and she slowly sat up, feeling her knees sting where the floor had cut her when she fell. When the door banged closed, another sob escaped her lips, and she curled her knees up to her chest, hiding her face from the world in her tear-stained dress.  
Why had he said those things? Lenox had started it. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, just get him to stop saying those mean things. She hadn’t really expected him to be blown off his chair like that, but it had been her, hadn’t it? Her magic.  
But instead of feeling proud, she felt ashamed. Lenox had been learning new spells for a while now and was soon to get his wand. Leila had thought that once she had shown signs of magic, they would take her to buy her first wand as well with him. Maybe be proud of her.  
Had Cecil yelled at her for hurting Lenox, or had it been when she showed signs of magic? I want to go back to Mina’s house, she thought desperately as her body was wracked with sobs that were lost in the dark basement. She cried until her body had no more tears to cry, but refused to move out of her curled up position, as if it was the only thing protecting her from the real world. Minutes, perhaps hours had gone by before the sound of the door opening came from somewhere above her, and soft footsteps padded down the stairs. Leila clenched her eyes closed tighter and tried to make herself look as small as possible, even though she knew the footsteps were not his. They were too light.  
A gentle hand was placed upon her back, rubbing soothing circles. “There now, let’s get you up to bed. Master Cecil said it’s been a few hours, and you can go to bed now, dear.” Leila feebly tried to shake the hand off her shoulder, but another snaked its way around to hold her, pulling her up. She slowly got to her feet and allowed what sounded like one of the servants to lead her up the stairs to her room. It was dark, in the corridors, well into the night when everyone had long gone to bed. The maid who was leading her along was the same one that had given her a tour of the manor. She had seemed nice enough, answering any of Leila’s questions about where the library was and all the rooms she was allowed into. Leila couldn’t for the life of her remember the young girl’s name, but she was quiet now as she herded Leila into her room, finally letting Leila go and moving to close the heavy curtains. Leila dragged herself towards the bed, flopping down with a huff, too tired to change out of her clothes.  
Before she fell asleep, she was vaguely aware of her shoes being pulled off and a blanket being draped over her, but Leila was too far gone to care, her chest hollow and her mind drained of all emotions. She slept intermittently for the last few hours until dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reeeeeaally just want to get on with adding the Malfoys in, but it'll have to wait till the next chapter. I kinda wanted to focus on the relationship with her 'family'. Still don't know when I'll get the chance to keep updating but I'll try not to leave it too long


	3. Chapter 3: The one where Leila makes a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young boy standing beside her regarded Leila with a cautious expression, his posture very stiff. His platinum blonde hair was gelled back, leaving no hairs to stick up. He had a very pointed chin that matched his pointed nose. Leila tried not to laugh at the thought, and tried to focus on something else.   
> Beatrice smiled sweetly at the newcomers, moving further into the room. “Lucius, Narcissa, this is Elladora. Elladora meet Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and their son, Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no explanation.... Truly...

The next day Leila had gone to Lenox during lunchtime and apologized, biting hard on her tongue lest she say anything else that would get her into trouble. They boy had not openly accepted her apology, but sniffed and said, “Yes, well. If you hadn’t caught me by surprise I could’ve easily blocked you. You’d be nothing more than a crisp shell by now.”   
Leila could taste blood in her mouth. He kept teasing her, but kept it mild after then, almost out of fear of what she would do to him. Not that Leila would be able to replicate the blast she had caused anyway, since she had no idea how she had done it to begin with. Her lessons in magic with Professor Harvey went by agonizingly slowly. Her magic had shown itself, but any pride she would have felt for it had been crushed by the Rosiers. The rock occasionally moved in place on the table in front of her, but nothing more. Professor Harvey did nothing to hide his disappointment, grunting whenever she moved the rock, whacking the table - or sometimes her fingers - when she could not.   
Over the next week Leila was under heavy scrutiny by both Cecil and Vinda each night at dinner for the slightest hint of trouble. Beatrice refused to acknowledge her existence, and quite frankly, that was just fine by Leila. She was able to go about her lessons without worry of scoldings from the horrible hag.   
At night, alone in her room with her thoughts she was able to allow herself a small moment of pride for using magic. The professor had not shown her any spells yet, but it would not be long now. The Rosiers were beginning to talk about taking a trip to Diagon Alley, and Leila was certain that meant she and Lenox would get their first wands. She had heard of Diagon Alley from Mina, who would leave once in a while for a day to shop there. She had always promised to take Leila there one of those days. I suppose I’ll be going there sooner or later, just not without you, Mina, Leila thought miserably. Her heart began to ache as if an ice-cold hand had reached into her chest and began to squeeze it slowly, leaving her with a dull pain. For a while, she could ignore it, and the Rosiers. Things began to settle and Leila started finding a good routine. One for making the most of her day and avoiding the Rosiers at all costs while still going to her lessons.  
She enjoyed wandering the manor in her free time when she was not in the library. The Rosiers never ‘wandered’. They always knew which room to be in, when they were supposed to be there. But Leila liked it. It meant she never bumped into them in the vast hallways and long corridors, and she could explore the empty rooms, one by one, finding all sorts of things. One had grotesque statues lining the room and covering the walls, made of stone. Their beady eyes seemed to follow her movements, and she made sure to avoid that room. Many rooms held portraits of old people who glared at her from their frames, but said nothing, while some were threadbare, or filled to the brim with boxes and crates. Leila enjoyed her free time greatly, but it did get lonely. Having professors teach you at your manor every day meant she had no contact with the outside world, or children from schools her own age. The dozen or so servants were polite enough to her, however, and would happily help her find her way around when she would occasionally get lost. Leila soon began to sneak into the kitchens at night and find the three house elves still running about, their bat-like ears flapping as they hurried to finish their chores for the day. The first day they had all squeaked in surprise when she entered the kitchens, and one had dropped a tray or little cakes at the sight of her. But they grew accustomed to her, and Leila even managed to get them to stop bowing to her whenever they saw her, content to sit on a bench out of their way and watch them cook scrumptious meals while she read a book or did her homework. They were smart, too, Leila noticed. The first time she had brought out her homework to do in the kitchens, they had looked at her oddly. Leila thought they expected her to be in the study room, doing her work there like Lenox usually did, calling for elves to bring him treats while he worked. But Leila would be damned before she became like him, and she refused to budge from her spot until her homework was completed. Every night she took her homework to the kitchen, and after ten minutes an elf would bring her juice and biscuits while she worked. It quickly became a routine, and soon the house elves wouldn’t even stop in their work when she entered.   
One evening when the rain was pouring outside and Leila had nothing better to do, she decided to do her homework early. Seating herself down, she would occasionally glance at the elves cooking dinner early and smell the lamb on the fire, making her mouth water. As one of the elves passed her to grab a few onions out the cupboard, he stopped and looked over her shoulder.   
“Elizabeth 1 of England was born of Henry VIII, Miss, not Henry VII.” The elf - Hob, Leila remembered - said with a small bow. His eyes widened and he flinched as if he expected her to hit him. Leila frowned and looked back at her notes. “Huh, you’re right. Thanks,” she beamed. Hob’s eyes widened even more until they were the size of small dinner plates. Leila guessed the Rosiers usually hit the elves for speaking out like that to correct one of them.   
“I hate history. I don’t even know half these names!” Leila pouted, resting her chin in her lap. Hob wrung the front of his filthy over sized shirt in his hands, a conflicted look crossing his face. “Hob should get back to work, but if miss would like, Hob knows the story of Queen Elizabeth, and her siblings. It is very fascinating, miss.” Leila brightened, scooting up on the bench to make room for him, but he knelt down on the dirty kitchen floor in front of her and began telling her the history of Elizabeth.  
From that day, Leila would hurry to finish her story early, so that Hob might indulge her in a story or two of historical figures and their battles, of Merlin, of the four founding members of Hogwarts… anything that she asked about, he seemed to know a fascinating tale. It was not the same as playing with other children, but it was something Leila could look forward to each evening. And it didn’t hurt that Hob helped her with her homework when she got stuck.

During a particularly sunny day in June, Leila took a book outside and sat on the neatly manicured lawn at the back of the manor, overlooking the hills of grassy fields that stretched out for miles in each direction. Vinda had caught her beforehand and demanded she take a blanket with to sit on, lest she get mud on her pastel blue dress.  
“Don’t go far, Ella,” Vinda’s eyes glinted maliciously as she watched Leila head for the door. “We might call you back soon.” Leila had turned to ask her why, but the old lady was already shuffling along, muttering to herself and whacking an unfortunate servant out of her way.  
Leila tilted her head up towards the sun, her book on different wand types lay open on her lap. Deciding that the sun now had her full attention, Leila stood up, letting the book tumble onto the blanket, forgotten. She wandered along a grass path lined with bushes and flowers on either side so high that Leila could not see over them. Azaleas and pansies carpeted the floor of the garden areas, creating a vibrant atmosphere, while rosebushes and neatly trimmed hedges loomed taller than her head, creating winding paths of all different shapes.  
As she rounded a corner, the garden opened up to a small pond with a bench on one bank, and more pathways leading off into the garden around the edges of the pond. Excited at her new find, Leila reached down to take off her shoes and go walk on the bank, when she heard someone call her name. Leila froze, thinking that if she was lucky, she could go back later, feigning innocence that she had not heard anyone call her. The voice grew angrier.  
“Elladora!” Flinching, Leila knew Vinda would not accept her excuse, and with one last longing look at the pond, Leila turned and hurried back before Vinda could accuse her of tardiness.   
A servant directed her towards the first floor parlor, and as she rounded the corner she heard several unfamiliar voices chattering and laughing, and the sound of tea cups clattering on their plates.   
Taking a deep breath to steel herself for what would obviously be having tea with guests, Leila pushed open the door, knocking as she did to announce herself. The chattering and laughter died away as several pairs of eyes turned to regard the newcomer.   
“Ah, Elladora. So good of you to join us. Come, sit.” Beatrice motioned for a chair, not bothering to hide the sarcasm lacing her voice. Leila curtsied and made her way to sit in the lumpy chair, aware of all eyes on her.  
“This is the Greengrass family. Charlotte and Albert have come for tea, and these are their daughters.” With introductions out of the way, the adults struck up their chatter and laughter once more, and Leila was left to sit quietly in her seat. She risked a peek up at the Greengrass’s, noting how Albert’s large belly was trying desperately to pop the straining buttons of his shirt. Leila wasn’t sure what was more distracting; the buttons about to burst, of the glare of sun coming from the window and hitting his shiny, balding head, momentarily blinding her. As she looked away, she caught someone’s eye. Looking at her curiously from the seat beside her mother was a girl about her age in a dark grey dress, her legs dangling to and fro off the edge of her chair. The girl had an oval-shaped face that was clenched nervously, framed by straight black hair and she sat nervously in her seat, fiddling with the folds of her dress.   
Leila gave her a timid half-smile, and the change was immediate. The fiddling hands still, the face softened, the kicking stopped and the mouth opened to show two rows of teeth as she gave Leila the biggest grin she could muster. Leila stifled a giggle, hoping Vinda or Beatrice hadn’t noticed, but she failed. Vinda leaned over to her and muttered softly, “If you can’t keep still, girl then leave. They’ve seen you, you’re no longer needed.” Leila couldn’t believe her luck! Not wanting to be told twice, she hopped off the couch and made her way to the door, hoping the servants hadn’t removed her book and blanket yet.   
Her hand hesitated at the doorknob, and she turned back to regard the girl. As soon as their eyes met, Leila gestured with her head, hoping the girl might be allowed to follow. The girl brightened, leaning over to her mother to whisper something in her ear. Charlotte Greengrass did not take her eyes off her husband as he spoke of his supposedly hilarious encounter with a “Mr Avery”, but dipped her head slightly in what could only be a nod. The girl beamed and clambered off her chair, hurrying over to Leila. The younger daughter, who had been sitting on her mother’s lap, tried to wriggle off to follow, but Charlotte held tightly to her daughter as she gave out a tinkling laugh at her husband’s joke. As the small girl wriggled harder, the girl in the grey dress reached Leila’s side and whispered, “Hurry, before Astoria gets free and tries to follow!” The girl’s bolted from the room, hearing Astoria begin to wail loudly behind them. Not really wanting a small child like her to follow them, Leila picked up speed, leading the way through the maze of corridors as servant, house elves and a startled Lenox all jumped out of their way. They burst through the door leading outside to the back gardens and stood bent over, both with their hands on their knees, gasping for breath. Leila peered at the other girl through her curtain of curly locks, still trying to get her breath back. The girl glanced sideways at her, and after a moment of silence, they burst out laughing.  
“Oh... oh did you see the look of horror on Lenox’s face?”   
“I know,” the girl wheezed between gasps of air and giggles, “that was priceless… he looked like he’d never seen girls… run before…”  
Finally calming their laughter to a trickle of giggles, the girls straightened up and regarded one another. The strange girl moved first, sticking out her hand. “I’m Daphne Greengrass. And you, are my hero.”  
“I’m L-... Ella. Elladora Rosier.” Leila stuttered, knowing that if Vinda or Cecil found out that she had told anyone the name her parents had given her, she’d be in for it. “But why your hero?” she asked out of curiosity.  
“Because I’ve never done that with anyone. Ever.” Daphne stated, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.  
“What? You’ve never run off like that?”  
“Well, more like I’ve never run indoors. Or been able to get away from my sister. Or scared Lenox like that before. Or been let out of those social things before. Or-”  
“Okay, I get it. You’ve never had fun.” Leila waved her hand dismissively, and Daphne blinked, her eyebrows shooting up to disappear under her fringe. “I know how to have fun!”  
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”   
Daphne looked around for a moment, then promptly took off her shoes and socks, standing on the grass, wiggling her toes. “Ha!” She looked at Leila triumphantly, and all Leila could do was stare. “Is that it?”  
“Mother never lets me walk around without shoes on. I’d track dirt inside.”  
Frowning, Leila peered out over the garden. Straight ahead of them were the gardens, but to their right Leila saw the tall trees that marked the border of the woods. Grinning like a wolf, her shoes and socks followed Daphne’s to the floor and she took hold of her hand, running straight for the line of trees.  
“So why do you not like your sister being around?” Leila asked as they jogged, hearing Daphne sigh beside her. “It’s not that I don’t like her or anything, she just… ruins things. She’s not mean, she just always wants to do what I’m doing and I never get time by myself or people my own age. Plus she’s like four. She can’t do much with me. Leila nodded sagely, knowing a four year old couldn’t keep up with a seven year old like herself.   
As they reached the trees and slowed down, Leila let go of Daphne’s hand and scouted all the ones nearby. Finally she found one, whirled around to look at Daphne and pointed up the tree. “We’re climbing this one.” And without waiting for her reaction, Leila turned and grabbed hold of the lowest branch, pulling herself up.  
“Ella? Ella we can’t climb that, we’re wearing dresses!” Leila peered down at Daphne’s scandalous look, shrugging. “Do you see anyone here to peek?”  
The scandalous look was replaced with uncertainty. “But, if we’re caught-”  
“Like I said,” she crouched on the branch, grinning down at her new friend, whose conviction was wavering, “there’s no one here. If there’s no one here to see us, then did we really climb this tree?”  
That did it. Daphne gave one last glance around before reaching up to take hold of the branch. Leila quickly began climbing higher, making room for Daphne to climb after. She kept looking up to contemplate the easiest route for the two of them, and soon she and Daphne were as high as they could possibly climb. The whole tree was waving to and fro, whistling as the wind forced the leaves to flutter and dance. “Isn’t this great?” Leila shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Daphne nodded back to her silently, her knuckles turning white as she wrapped her arms around the tree. “I do feel as though I’m about to fall at any second, though…” she said faintly, and Leila immediately reached across and placed a hand on her arm, gripping her. “Hey, I’ve got you. You won’t fall. Promise.” Daphne flashed her a grateful smile, and some colour returned to her skin.  
When the girls had finally dropped back to earth, Daphne had collapsed to her hands and knees. “Oh, sweet land, I’ve missed you!” she shouted dramatically, placing a hand against her forehead. Leila gave a bark with laughter, knowing she immediately liked this girl. “Admit it, you like it,” Leila leaned down and poked Daphne on her cheek, causing her friend to stick her tongue out in retaliation. “That was exciting, I’ll give you that.” Satisfied, Leila pulled her to her feet and they walked back the the back of the manor, arm in arm. Daphne dusted herself off as they walked, pointing out how relieved she was that her dress had not gotten any noticeable dirt marks on it. They sat down on the blanket that Leila had laid out earlier, and Daphne immediately perked up, grabbing Leila’s forgotten book and opening it. “Ooh, I love these books! I want to know what my wand will be so badly!”  
“I know! I’ve been reading on the different properties of the wood and the core. Did you ever read about the secret dueling club in the eighteenth century that only allowed members in that had wand of aspen?”  
“I did! The Silver Spears! Can you imagine having a wand that was meant for dueling and combat?” Daphne flipped through the pages with Leila peeking from her left shoulder.

“Daphne, it’s time to go now.” The sharp voice startled the two girls and the both jumped to their feet, whirling around to see Charlotte at the door, holding Astoria’s hand.   
“What? But mother, we’ve not even been here that long.”   
“Dear, you girls have been out here for four hours. It’s past high tea already.” Leila and Daphne turned to the West, where the sun had begun its descent, casting orange rays on the fields. “Oh.” Daphne sagged, turning back to her mother. “Alright, mother.” You’ll see her again, darling. I’ll bring you around for tea next week to play, shall I?” Charlotte smiled at the girls as they perked up.  
“Goodbye Daphne.”  
“Bye, Ella,” she hugged Leila and whispered softly, “Thanks for today.” Leila watched Charlotte lead her daughters inside, and wandered off in another direction, not really knowing where she was going until she found herself at the doors to the kitchen. When her stomach gave an almighty growl, she shrugged, not wanting to fight it, and made to push them open and hoped that Hob could make her a snack. It was a Saturday, after all. Surely she was not needed. Her hopes were dashed, however, when Beatrice’s shrill voice echoed down the hall and into the kitchen, where Leila had just seated herself down in her favorite spot.   
Leila groaned, patting her growling stomach to quell it as she dragged her feet back towards the parlor.

Beatrice was waiting outside, and her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of Leila. “Good grief girl, look at the state of you hair. Tie it up! We can’t have our guests thinking you live outdoors.   
“Guests? But the Greengrass’s just left.”   
Beatrice sniffed disdainfully, eyeing Leila’s appearance as she tried up her hair in what she hoped was more presentable.  
“These are different guests. Important guests. You will behave, Elladora!” Leila groaned. “But we just had guests, why are there more?” Beatrice hissed, looking at her with fire in her eyes. “I will say this once more. They are very important guests. We have planned this meeting for months, since you’ve arrived. Do. Not. Mess. This. Up. Be seen, and not heard.” Beatrice pulled herself to her full height and opened the doors, striding into the room. Why since I’ve arrived? Leila wondered, following her.  
“Here she is, I apologise for her unpunctuality.” Leila stepped lightly into the room with her heart in her stomach, knowing that everyone would be looking at her again. True enough, the three newcomers were all watching her enter. Cecil sat in a high-back chair, puffing on a cigar. Another man sat in the chair next to him, a black cane leaning on the side of the chair. He looked tall, even from his sitting position, with long blonde hair that almost looked white. A woman stood by the fireplace, wearing a beautiful black dress with a high neck. She too, shared in the man’s blonde hair. She had very high cheekbones, and small, pouting lips covered in red lipstick. The young boy standing beside her regarded Leila with a cautious expression, his posture very stiff. His platinum blonde hair was gelled back, leaving no hairs to stick up. He had a very pointed chin that matched his pointed nose. Leila tried not to laugh at the thought, and tried to focus on something else.   
Beatrice smiled sweetly at the newcomers, moving further into the room. “Lucius, Narcissa, this is Elladora. Elladora meet Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and their son, Draco.”


End file.
